


and he's 102, so, uhh

by elz_delz



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Blow Jobs, Butt Plugs, Captain America Steve Rogers, Captain America Steve Rogers/Modern Bucky Barnes, Crack, Daddy Kink, Dom/sub, Fluff, Gay Bucky Barnes, Hand Jobs, M/M, Masturbation, Maybe - Freeform, Modern Bucky Barnes, Most definitely, Mutual Masturbation, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Overstimulation, Phone Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, SO, Smut, but its mild, i watched a tiktok and immediately went, imma write a fic abt this, is he a twink?, probably, probably some tags i forgot to put in, so uhh, this turned out more smutty than i anticipated, wait here they are, whoops, yes - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:33:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27106534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elz_delz/pseuds/elz_delz
Summary: "'Daddy' this, 'Daddy' that!" Dernier says accusingly, his finger quotes scarily aggressive. "Why? Why, James? I am never going to be able to look at mon père the same again!""I second that," Dum Dum adds."Guys, no kink shaming, remember?" Gabe sighs.Bucky points at Gabe. "Thank you! This is why you're my favourite roommate. And it's not like I have a choice, okay?""Sure, Bucky," Dum Dum snorts. "You have absolutely no choice but to call your boyfriend 'Daddy.'""His name's Steve!" Bucky says. "Steve! Like, alright, there's nothing wrong with 'Steve', but it's not exactly something you'd scream in the throes of ecstacy."-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Some AU Shrunkyclunks crack <3*This fic started as a one-shot but is now a collection of smutty, kind of interconnected chapters ft. Daddy!Steve based on tiktoks... whoops
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 39
Kudos: 242





	1. and he's 102, so, uhh

**Author's Note:**

> Addendum 1: Rating changed to E as of the second chapter... whoops
> 
> Addendum 2: This fic is now an ongoing WIP that I'll probably update quite frequently with short-ish chapters. It's still gonna be shameless PWP (or at least, minimal plot) and I'll be taking prompts in the comments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by a tiktok I saw while procrastinating from writing my WIP and multiple assignments due in a literal week oops. this is the first smut I've written in ages, and the first in this pairing, so tell me off in the comments if its shit lmao. and please forgive my google translate french if you actually speak french. I took Spanish in school and even THAT'S abysmal. Lo siento a todos del mundo hispanohablante (y en Francia, supongo que si).
> 
> Rated M because some dick. tiny hint of dick. tis the la Croix of dick. ain't no explicit dick in this house no siree.
> 
> Edit: 100 kudos in a day???? the fuck, guys???? anyway, I realised I forgot to link the tiktok for credit so here it is if you wanna watch it lmao: https://www.tiktok.com/@chanbarbee/video/6872110663670484229?lang=en&sender_device=pc&sender_web_id=6885776578727888385&is_from_webapp=1

> _"When people are like, 'Ugh, you call your man 'daddy' in bed... like, gross'- well, some of us don't have a choice, okay? My man's name is Earl._ EARL! _Do you want me to be like, '_ Earl!' _? No, it's gotta be 'daddy'... I'm sorry. And he's 50, so, uhh."_ \- @chanbarbee

Bucky wakes slowly, wrapped in heat and soft arms. He's got his back to Steve's chest, their legs are tangled together, and the heat coming from the supersoldier's body is almost unbearable. Maybe if it were wintertime it would be fine- Bucky's scummy landlord hasn't ever gotten around to fixing the radiator (or the leaky sink, or the sag of the floorboards in the living room, or the cracked window they've had to duct tape over)- but it was early June in New York. Not exactly prime weather for snuggling with a human space heater.

As quietly as he can, Bucky begins to extricate himself from Steve's arms. He should've expected Steve's supersoldier instincts to notice right away, but he didn't; he squeaked as Steve's hold on him tightens. He finds himself being flipped, his back to the mattress and his face not two inches from Steve's.

"Morning, Buck," Steve rasps as he nuzzles into the younger man's neck. Bucky gasps as Steve trails chaste, soft kisses from his jaw to his collarbones. Bucky's sure his neck is already covered in hickeys from last night, judging by how tender his flesh seems to be.

Bucky feels Steve's hand brush gently up and down his thigh, and all intelligent thought is blasted out of his head. "Uh huh," he manages at last. "You too."

Steve smiles against his skin. "Last night was..."

He pushes himself up so that he can better look at Bucky. He's got a small, almost shy smile on his face that softens his bright eyes around the corners. God, it makes Bucky want to melt. 

"It was really something," Bucky says.

"Yeah," laughs Steve. He leans down to press a quick kiss to Bucky's lips. "It really was." 

They stare into each others' eyes for a second, though it seems like an eternity, and then suddenly they're kissing again. It's hot and wet, the way Steve seems to claim him with it sending white-hot jolts of desire down his body. 

" _Daddy,"_ Bucky whines into Steve's mouth. He's answered by a sharp bite to his bottom lip. He cries out at the pleasure-pain, though the sound quickly muffled as Steve deepens the kiss, his tongue pushing rough and needy into Bucky's mouth.

Bucky jerks his hips up, trying to get whatever friction he can, but Steve brings one of his hands down to Bucky's stomach and keeps him pinned down against the bed. It draws another pitiful whine from Bucky, which makes Steve chuckle, the sound low and unfairly sexy. 

"Now, now, Buck," Steve reprimands him. "None of that."

"But- oh, God, please, Daddy," Bucky gasps. "I need- I need-" He tries fruitlessly to wriggle out from beneath Steve's hand, knowing full well that it's impossible; thanks to the serum, Steve's muscles have muscles, and Bucky's lithe build is no match for it in terms of physical strength. The knowledge that Steve could snap him in half if he wanted to probably turns Bucky on a little more than it should. 

"What do you need, baby?" Steve asks. The hand holding Bucky down slides a little lower. "This?"

Bucky nods frantically. "Yes, Daddy. But-"

His words trail off pathetically as Steve's hand begins to move. 

"But what?"

"M-more, Daddy. I want more."

Steve's hand twists deftly, drawing an unintelligible string of noises out of Bucky. "Like this?

"Fuck, yes! And-"

"Faster?" Steve asks. He doesn't wait for a reply, just speeds up the motion of his hand until Bucky's shaking and crying underneath him.

"Daddy," Bucky whimpers. He clutches desperately at Steve's broad shoulders. "Daddy- _fuck-_ Daddy, I'm close. I'm so close, Daddy!"

He comes in a loud litany of curses and moans, ' _Daddy'_ slipping from his lips again more than a few times. 

Bucky floats down from his orgasm slowly, everything blurry and warm. Distantly, he hears Steve grunting, then feels more hot wetness splatter onto his abs. He grins, fingers going to his stomach. He languidly begins to rub his and Steve's cum into his skin.

"Fuck, that's so goddamned hot, baby," he hears Steve curse. 

And then Bucky's alarm goes off, jolting him out of his post-orgasm high. 

"Shit!" he hisses, leaping out of bed. He grabs his discarded shirt from last night and wipes Steve's cum off of himself. Looking back and seeing Steve's mildly surprised, definitely confused face, he adds, "I've got a meeting with my advisor in-" He stumbles over to grab his phone to check the time, silencing the alarm as he does so. "-an hour and a half." 

Bucky pulls a pair of briefs from his wardrobe. He almost trips trying to get them on. 

"Damn, Buck, why'd you let me stay the night, then?" Steve asks. 

"Have you seen you?" says Bucky, shooting Steve a crooked grin. He grabs a pair of probably clean jeans from the chair and pulls them on quickly, followed by a well-loved red henley. "I'd be an idiot not to get you in my bed any chance I get. Hand me that hoodie over there, will you?"

Steve tosses him the grey hoodie hung up on his bedpost. Bucky ties it around his waist; his advisor's office is always ridiculously cold, seemingly even more so in the summer months. "You not gonna... shower or anything?" 

Bucky freezes, his laptop halfway into his backpack. "Nah," he replies slowly. "Kinda like the idea of meetin' that frigid dickhead like this."

He leaves before Steve can say anything else, a painfully wide grin on his face. It quickly falls as he comes face-to-face with his three roommates, all sitting at what passed as their dining table. All of them are nursing mugs of coffee, the pot sat full on the table.

"Gabriel, Timothy, Jacques," he greets them awkwardly in turn.

Dum Dum glares at him. " _James._ "

Dernier says something in machine-gun French, throwing his hands up in the air. Gabe looks at him sympathetically.

"Gabe?" Bucky asks, perplexed. Even if he _did_ speak French, he's not sure he could keep up with how quickly Dernier always seemed to talk. 

"Says he couldn't care less who you wanna sleep with, just wishes you could keep it down so that the rest of us can get some shut-eye," Gabe translates.

" _'Daddy'_ this _, 'Daddy'_ that _!"_ Dernier says accusingly, his finger quotes scarily aggressive. "Why? Why, James? I am never going to be able to look at _mon père_ the same again!"

"I second that," Dum Dum adds. 

"Guys, no kink-shaming, remember?" Gabe sighs.

Bucky points at Gabe. "Thank you! This is why you're my favourite roommate. And it's not like I have a choice, okay?"

"Sure, Bucky," Dum Dum snorts. "You have _absolutely no choice_ but to call your boyfriend 'Daddy.'"

"His name's Steve!" Bucky says. "Steve! Like, alright, there's nothing wrong with 'Steve', but it's not exactly something you'd scream in the throes of ecstasy."

"Please don't call it that," Dum Dum all but whimpers, his eyes closed. Gabe puts a consoling hand on his arm. Dernier looks like he's about to pass out.

Bucky scowls at them all. "What do you want me to be like? _Oh, Steeeeeeeve!"_ he moans exaggeratedly. "No! So it's gotta be 'Daddy'. I'm sorry! Oh, and he's like, a hundred and two, so, uhh..."

All three of his roommates blink up at him.

" _Que dit cet idiot?"_ Dernier asks.

"Hey! I may not speak French, but I at least know that 'idiot' is universal," Bucky says. "I mean exactly what I mea-"

The door of Bucky's room opens quietly, and suddenly Captain America is in their shitty living room. Everyone's jaw drops to the floor- except for Bucky, who just grins smugly.

"Hey, Buck, I'm gonna head out now," he says gently, pulling Bucky in for a kiss. His tongue flicks out to tease the corner of Bucky's mouth, just for a second before he pulls back. He gives Bucky's gobsmacked roommates a nod. "Gentlemen."

"I'll call you later," Bucky tells him. "After my meeting."

"We can get lunch," Steve says with a smile. Goddamn, none of the history books ever warned Bucky what a little shit Steve Rogers was.

"Drive safe!" Bucky calls after him as he leaves the apartment.

The apartment is pin-drop silent for a few seconds. Then-

"Y'know what? I understand the 'Daddy' thing, now," Dum Dum says. The other two nod in agreement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yee haw
> 
> should i have rated that E???? lmao idc
> 
> anyway, wear a mask, don't drink and drive, take care of urselves, darlings xo


	2. 3,690 dollar 'fit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hon i wrote this as crack at 3 am and didn't even second draft this shit and somehow it has 100 kudos already what the fuck lmaooooo am I dreaming????? honestly I don't care I'm just glad there are at least 100 other idiots like me out there
> 
> so here's some more, as a treat. and we've graduated from la Croix (la Groin? Does that work?) smut to full on artery-clogging COCK-A COLA (I'm so sorry kill me)
> 
> tiktok that inspired this chap: https://www.tiktok.com/@oliverriostrott/video/6861576725550206209?lang=en&sender_device=pc&sender_web_id=6885776578727888385&is_from_webapp=1
> 
> (also pls forgive me if my knowledge of urban planning/blocks/NY university layouts and locations is ABSOLUTELY HEINOUS i am not American and definitely not from a city, sooooo just ignore it if it's stupendously wrong)

> " _People ask how my outfit costs $3,690:_
> 
>   * _Travis Scott t-shirt: $20_
>   * _Jeans: $30_
>   * _Belt: $15_
>   * _White Air Force Sneakers: $110_
>   * _Pearl Spike Necklace: $20_
>   * _Chain Necklace: $20_
>   * _Silver Butt Plug w/ Horse Tail: $3,475 "_
> 

> 
> _\- @oliverriostrott_

Bucky's face hurts with how much he's smiled today. He'd spent half an hour taking photo after photo with his classmates, most of whom he barely even knew. Then his sister had pulled out her brand-new Polaroid camera and Bucky's picture-taking Hell started all over again.

"Just one more, Bucky," his sister, Becca, tells him. She pulls him tighter into the little huddle they've all formed. "Say 'hello, unemployment and-slash-or menial, exploitative labour'!"

" _Rebecca,_ " sighs Ma just as the sound of the shutter goes off. Becca just cackles in response and pulls the polaroid from the camera. 

Bucky pushes up the sleeves of his graduation gown, wondering why they still make graduates wear them. They're itchy and hot and too damn expensive for something he's only going to wear once. He pulls out his phone, seeing that he's gotten two messages from Steve. 

**_Daddy:_ ** _I'm so proud of you, baby_

 **_Daddy:_ ** _Got a present waiting for you at home... I think you're gonna like it_

Well, fuck. Suddenly, Bucky loves his gown, on account that it's helping him hide his burgeoning boner from his family. 

Steve loves buying things for Bucky; his wardrobe is a testament to that. It's full of expensive, high-quality clothes that Bucky would never have been able to afford for himself in a million years. Shirts, jeans, coats, you name it, Steve's probably bought them for him. Maybe it's more lingerie, lacy and delicate and ready for Steve to rip off Bucky's body. 

The sound of his father laughing snaps him out of his daydream. He tries willing his boner down, thinking of his crusty old professors, his sister's cooking, the looming prospect of job-hunting and possible joblessness.

Ah. That did it. 

_But if you couldn't find a job,_ a sly voice in the back of his head whispers, _you could always just stay with Steve. Be his pretty little kept boy._

Never mind, then.

Bucky violently taps out a text to Steve.

 **_Bucky:_ ** _ur killing me_

 **_Bucky:_ ** _if I nut in front of my entire family ur never touching me again_

 **_Bucky:_ ** _EVER_

"Who you textin'?" Becca asks, leaning over his shoulder to try and catch a peek of the screen, but Bucky shoves it back into his pocket before she can get a good look. Her eyebrows shoot up anyway. "When'd you get a new phone? _How'd_ you get a new phone?"

Fuck. _Of course_ she'd notice that- there'ss a reason she'd made detective so quickly. 

"Uhh, a few months ago," he said. "Bought it off one of... Gabe's friends. He's getting the new StarkPhone so he wanted to get rid of this one. Got it cheap."

Bucky is a lying liar who lies. He feels terrible lying to his sister, one of his closest friend and confidant despite their seven-year age gap. But it's not exactly like he can just say, "Oh, yeah, I'm dating Steve Rogers and he spends obscene amounts of money on me because I call him 'Daddy' when we fuck. And also when we're not fucking. Anyone up for ice cream?" Hell, Steve's not even publicly _out_ yet, and although Bucky knows Becca would never tell anyone, it just wouldn't sit right with him. He knows 

"Sure you don't have a sugar daddy or anything?" Becca laughs, and Bucky's ninety-three percent sure it's a joke. One could never be too careful around Becca.

"Good one," he says dryly. "But I don't think the whole 'Fifty Shades' thing is as probable as you seem to think it is, Becks."

She shrugs, then reaches out to ruffle Bucky's hair. Bucky shrinks back from her hand with a hiss, raising his arms up to protect himself. "If anyone could do it, it'd be you, Buckster. What're they called, guys like you?"

"Twinks, honey," Ma supplies, not looking up from the stack of polaroids held between her and Dad that they'd taken. "Your brother's a twink."

"Jesus fucking Christ, I regret taking you to Pride," Bucky groans into his hands. 

"Yeah, yeah! That's what all those old, rich businessmen are into, right?" Becca asks.

"I wouldn't know."

"Guys," says Dad. "Let's stop heckling Bucky, yeah?"

"I wouldn't mind if he had an older gentleman looking after him," Ma says to him anyway, ignoring Dad. "Maybe he could help pay off our mortgage."

That sounds exactly like something Steve would do. Bucky should put a reminder down in his suspiciously new and expensive StarkPhone: DO NOT LET STEVE AND MA MEET.

Just then, his suspiciously new and expensive StarkPhone starts to ring. "Sorry. Gotta take this," he tells his family. He puts a little bit of distance between them, knowing before he's even got the phone out of his pocket that it's Steve calling him. 

"Hey, baby," Steve greets as soon as he puts his phone up against his ear. He can't help the smile slowly growing on his face. 

"Hi," he says back. He doesn't dare call him Daddy, not with his family so close by. 

"I'm sorry I couldn't be there, Buck," Steve begins, sadness tinging his voice."

"Hey, no, I completely understand," Bucky cuts in. "If you need more time, take it. I get it. And besides, it's still a little too early for you to meet the rest of the Barneses. I wouldn't want to scare you off."

"Nothing could scare me off, doll," Steve says.

"Trust me, the Barnes women could."

"I don't doubt it. What about your dad?"

Bucky shrugs, even though Steve can't see the movement. "Eh. He's chill, mostly. Just don't ever let him know you still support the Dodgers."

"That's fair, I guess," Steve concedes. "You still coming over after?"

"Yeah," Bucky replies, face heating. "I just need to find a way to get out of any more awkward family pictures, then I'm all yours."

"Alright. Meet me at the end of the block when you're done."

The call disconnects before Bucky has a chance to ask what he means by that. Turns out he didn't have to, because not a minute later, the now-familiar sound of a motorcycle fills the air. Bucky watches Steve drive down the street, fighting the urge to drop everything and sprint after him.

He returns to his family, letting them cajole him into taking a few more pictures before he excuses himself, citing a night out with his friends. They hug him tight before he leaves, and he promises to go over for dinner on Sunday.

Steve's got his helmet off when Bucky reaches him; it hangs from the handlebars as Steve reads something on his phone. Clearly, he's confident in people's inability to imagine Captain America owning a motorcycle. He's idling at the corner of the street, looking delicious in his brown leather jacket. Bucky can't help but stare at his thighs, impossibly thick, straddling the bike in a way that has to be illegal. 

"Hey," Bucky says, pressing what was supposed to be a chaste kiss to Steve's lips. Steve's hand comes up to his neck though, keeping him still as he deepens the kiss, coaxing Bucky's mouth open with gentle licks. 

"Hey, yourself," Steve chuckles when they break apart. "How was the ceremony?"

Bucky shrugs. "Boring. The speeches were dull, the wait was long, the robe was ridiculously expensive- thanks for buying it for me, by the way. I know I've said it before, but-"

Steve silences him with another kiss, this one a little more decent than the last. "Don't worry about it," he says, eyes flashing brightly. He moves as though angling for another kiss, though stops just short of Bucky's lips. "You know how much I like buying things for you, sweet boy."

Bucky shivers at those words. He's almost painfully hard now.

"Wanna put it away while we drive?" Steve asks.

"Guh?" is Bucky's extremely articulate response. His brain takes a minute to catch up with his ears. "Oh, yeah."

Steve opens up the top box and pulls out the second helmet, handing it to Bucky. Bucky, in turn, gives Steve his graduation robe, which is then carefully tucked where the helmet used to be. Bucky obediently puts it on as he gets on behind Steve. He wraps his arms tight around Steve's waist, relishing in the closeness, in the friction- however minimal- he can get against Steve's back. 

He strokes his hands over Steve's abs as they drive, fingers tracing the ridges and valleys of his abs. Bucky's hands slowly start to drift downwards to his thighs, and he marvels at the way Steve's muscles flex as they turn. He still has no idea how he landed such a specimen. 

They get to Steve's brownstone before Bucky realises. It's a beautiful building, one Bucky's daydreamed about for hours on end. The things they could do in the kitchen... or the hallways... or the stairs... or anywhere, really. He's made it his life's mission to be fucked against every reinforced wall in the house.

They're on each other before the door shuts fully behind them. Steve presses Bucky against the wall, pinning his arms above his head with one hand as his tongue plunders Bucky's mouth in a searing, needy kiss. One of his thighs comes up between Bucky's legs and begins to mercilessly grind against his now-weeping cock. Bucky can't help the needy whine that slips from him. 

"Jesus, baby, you need it bad, huh?" Steve asks between messy kisses. "Could feel you against my back as we drove, all hard and needy. The way you touched me... fuck, I nearly crashed, d'you know? They drive me fucking crazy, baby, those hands of yours. I love them, don't get me wrong, but sometimes you've gotta keep 'em to yourself, alright?"

Bucky nods frantically. "'m sorry, Daddy," he slurs.

"You've been bad, haven't you, baby?"

"Yes. Yes, sorry, Daddy," Bucky pants. "I- I shouldn't 'a done that, shouldn't 'a distracted you like that, Daddy."

Steve's hold on Bucky's hands tightens a fraction. "No, you shouldn't have," he agrees. "Maybe I oughta teach you a lesson. Whaddya think, Buck? Think Daddy should teach you a lesson?"

Bucky's mouth has gone dry, his throat turned into sandpaper. Fuck, it always gets to him how quickly he falls apart for Steve, a neverending feedback loop of blazing desire. He manages to nod, groan out a hoarse, "Yes."

"Yes _what,_ baby?" Steve asks, lips pressed right up against his ear. He laves at the shell of it before licking a stripe all the way down the length of Bucky's neck. 

" _Yes, Daddy,"_ Bucky manages to say. 

Seemingly satisfied, Steve lifts Bucky off the ground. On instinct, Bucky wraps his legs around Steve's waist, bringing their groins flush against each other. With each step Steve takes up the stairs, a jolt of dull, throbbing pleasure radiates through Bucky's body. He curses the layers of fabric separating them, wanting to feel Steve's hot, smooth skin, see if his cock is leaking just as fervently as Bucky's. 

Steve throws Bucky down onto the bed once they get to the bedroom. "Strip for me," he orders.

Bucky's hands scrabble at the buttons of his shirt and trousers, with the buckle of his belt, but he manages to get naked in an impressively short amount of time. Steve watches him with dark eyes as he undresses, hand clutching his dick over his jeans. His thumb moves back and forth ever so slightly, and Bucky's captivated by the movement. He pays no attention to his own cock, which lies swollen and angry on his stomach, leaking so much precome it literally makes a puddle. 

"So beautiful," Steve breathes. "Turn over."

Bucky complies, wriggling around onto his belly. The position traps his cock against the bedsheets, the fabric gliding over it with every little squirming movement he makes. He can't help but rut against the bed, desperate for any kind of relief he can get. 

He feels a bright flash of pain that makes him cry out, more shocked than anything; Steve had spanked him. 

"Stay still, baby. Can you do that for me?" he asks. His hand is splayed over one of Bucky's cheeks, soothing the sting with tiny circles of his thumb. Bucky nods against the mattress, whimpering a little, and tries to hold completely still. His muscles are quivering with the effort. 

He hears the familiar click of a bottle of lube being opened. Bucky wants to turn his head, to see what exactly Steve's going to do, but he manages to stop himself. 

Cool slick dribbles in between his asscheeks, followed by one of Steve's thick fingers. 

"Oh, God... Daddy, I-" Bucky gasps as Steve circles his hole, already clenching at the prospect of being filled up. He fights the urge to rut against the bed again, the tension building- both physically and mentally- too much to bear. 

"What do you want, baby?" Steve asks, his voice gentle. "Use your words. Tell me what you need."

"I want- I need- I need you," Bucy whimpers. "Need your fingers in me, Daddy, need you to fill me up and make me yours. Please, Daddy!"

Steve's finger presses against Bucky's hole, the pressure too soft to bring any relief. He lingers like that for a moment, not breaching, just torturing. It's all Bucky can do to not push himself back and _force_ Steve's fingers into him. 

Finally, slowly, Steve gives him what he needs. Bucky sighs as the first digit slides into him, the way eased by the frankly excessive amount of lube. Steve pumps it in and out of him at a glacial pace, using his other hand to spread Bucky's cheeks and bare his greedy little hole. 

Steve pulls Bucky up onto his hands and knees before he adds another finger. He starts to pick up speed, fingers beginning to spread Bucky wider and looser. 

"God, look at you, Buck," Steve all but growls. "You've got the hungriest fuckin' cunt I've ever seen. Take my fingers so good, baby, open up so quickly for me. Isn't that right?"

"F-fuck, yes! Want you so bad, Daddy. Your fingers, your cock, d'sn't matter- just want you," Bucky replies, his voice higher and breathier than it normally is. He wails as Steve, without warning, shoves all four of his fingers in. He moves faster now, fingers searching for Bucky's sweet spot. He finds it within a matter of seconds and wastes no time, pressing against it relentlessly as his fingers piston in and out of Bucky's hole. 

Bucky can't help it any longer; he brings up a hand to wrap around his throbbing cock, sobbing at the rush of pleasure and relief it brings. He's so close, on the precipice of coming, all he needs is a few strokes, a few-

Steve's fingers suddenly leave his ass, and the loss of them has Bucky keening. "No, please-" he begins.

His hand is ripped from his dick, and the one keeping him up is pulled away, sending him face-first into the bed. Steve's got them clasped tightly behind Bucky's back. 

"What. Did. I. Tell. You?" he asks Bucky through gritted teeth, each word punctuated by a sharp slap against Bucky's ass. "Those fuckin' hands, baby, what did I fuckin' say?"

"G-gotta keep 'em t' myself," Bucky stutters. He can feel tears welling up, clouding his vision, a result of the mingling pain and pleasure. 

"But you didn't, did you, babydoll?" 

"No," Bucky replies. 

"That's right; you didn't." Bucky feels the blunt head of Steve's cock slide between his cheeks, and he can't help but moan at the feeling. "I gotta teach you a lesson, don't I?"

He doesn't wait for an answer, instead just shoves into Bucky all the way to the hilt. It knocks the air from Bucky's lungs, and the only sound he can make is a pathetic, aborted little wheeze. No matter how many times he takes Steve's cock, the girth of it will never fail to astound him.

Steve begins moving, nothing gentle about the way he does. Each thrust nails Bucky's prostate, turning his limbs to jelly. It doesn't take any more than five thrusts before he's coming violently, his cock spurting onto the sheets beneath him. But Steve doesn't stop, doesn't let up, just keeps going at that same brutal, unrelenting pace. At first, it keeps Bucky's orgasm rolling on and on, until his cock is jerking but nothing comes out anymore. Then, it morphs into pain, a biting knife-edge that has Bucky weeping and begging Steve to stop. But he doesn't, just keeps railing Bucky until his mind short-circuits and goes white with sensation and overstimulation.

He comes down from his pain-pleasure high as Steve begins to slow down, as his movements become jerkier. He manages to bury himself to the hilt one last time before he's coming, filling Bucky up with his scorching hot cum. Bucky moans wantonly in response, a soft, broken noise.

Steve pulls out carefully. "Wait here," he says. Bucky manages to hum in reply, too fucked-out to form anything legible. 

He's alerted to Steve's return when something hard and cold presses against his leaking hole. He manages to gasp and tries to squirm away, but Steve grips his hips and keeps him in place. He pushes in the plug, stoppering Bucky up with cum and slick. 

"Jesus _fuck,_ " Bucky manages to gasp. He feels the plug tug against his tender rim and looks back to see Steve yanking softly at the _tail_ of the toy. 

"Your graduation present," Steve says with a smirk. 

"Oh, fuck you."

"Didn't I already?"

Bucky rolls back around, gasping as the plug jostles inside him. It brushes up against his oversensitive prostate and he groans at the feeling. 

Steve helps him clean up, wiping the lube and cum from between his legs and stomach before leading him out into the hallway and into a guest room. He opens the wardrobe to reveal what seems like an entire store's worth of new clothes, all with the tags still attached.

"I wanted to get you a new outfit to wear out," Steve explains to Bucky, "but I couldn't decide what to get you. So I just bought everything they had in your size. You can return anything you don't like, keep anything you do."

"Oh my, God," Bucky laughs. "You _did_ buy the whole store! Jesus, Steve."

He pulls Steve down into a kiss, breathing a soft, ' _T_ _hank you'_ as he does.

\----------

They're walking hand-in-hand when a girl with a camera approaches them.

"Hi," she greets them chirpily. Steve pointedly looks away, pushing his sunglasses further up his nose as if that would protect him. But she's not here for Steve, apparently, because she turns to Bucky after her initial greeting and says, "I'm making a little YouTube video on street style in New York and I saw you and thought, 'Wow. Now there's a man who knows how to dress.' Do you mind doing a little bit for me, just telling the camera what you're wearing, how much it cost?"

"Sure," Bucky says, a little flustered. He steps away from Steve and in front of the girl's camera, giving a rundown of his outfit. 

"So, in total, it cost-"

"Three thousand, six hundred and ninety dollars," Steve cuts in, a feral grin on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> should really be writing ANYTHING BUT THIS but I am a whore (literally had to turn off grammarly bc i felt so sorry for the ai lmao sorry for any mistakes)
> 
> I'm probably gonna come back every once in a while to this if I'm writing something more serious/need a break so if yall want a specific tiktok inspired prompt (or any prompt, sans tiktok) with Daddy!Steve I'll try to make it happen lol. I've also left a few loose threads here and there that i can pick up and turn into ACTUAL PLOT (wow!) if anyone wants that.
> 
> so pls comment whether you'd like this fic to:  
> A) remain purely (lmao) PWP and be open to prompt suggestions  
> B) develop into some sort of a plot (also with prompt suggestions)  
> or  
> C) never be touched again and be left to rot


	3. cute chicks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whats up I have three assignments to finish, one I haven't even started and instead I'm writing this at 11;30 at night amazing hell yea that's how you maintain a scholarship lmao
> 
> anyway, chapter three. probably wont be able to churn them out quite so fast as I have before. I'll definitely keep writing though, so expect a chapter or two a week depending on how motivated I feel. It's weirdly great for my writing slump; guess I just needed to write cocaine-fueled gay porn...
> 
> (also in terms of mcu canon compliance, idk hon like, I guess the whole hydra thing doesn't exist, thanos's thicckque, juicy ass hasn't made an appearance, etc whatever)

> _"Drake... come here, look how cute these chicks are."_
> 
> _"Oh, shit... damn."_
> 
> _\- @jameshogan11_

It started with Natasha. Every now and then, she'd make a comment about how unfortunate it was that he was single, how she had a friend she was meeting up with later and, _oh, Steve, you should totally come too!_

He'd brushed it off, at first because he hadn't been in the right headspace after coming out of the ice and acclimating to the 21st century and dealing with all the crazy Avengers shit the world threw at him, and then because he'd met Bucky. So he laughed it off, told her he'd think about it, and then he'd text Bucky telling her about the latest girl Nat had tried to set him up with- they were probably all lovely people, Steve was sure, but he already had everything he needed. 

And then Tony joined in, followed by Clint, followed by Sam, followed by _Thor_ of all people.

_("Yes, many a maiden back home in Asgard have been taken by tales of your might, Captain!" he'd told Steve one time. "And I hear long-distance relationships are very common on Earth nowadays.")_

Only Bruce had left him alone, which meant that, by default, he was Steve's favourite Avenger. 

So here they all were, sat in the quinjet, Steve deep in his usual post-mission funk. And then Sam's got his phone shoved not two inches from his face. Steve jerks back on instinct, almost knocking the phone out of Sam's hand. 

"What the fuck, Sam," Steve mutters. He squints at the screen and sees a picture of a pretty girl standing next to Sam. She's wearing a blue dress that kind of reminds him of the stuff the girls in his neighbourhood used to wear when he was growing up.

"Cute, right?" Sam asks him expectantly.

"Yeah... damn. Pretty cute."

"My cousin," he tells her, a grin on his face. "Liz. Just moved to New York for her job- she's a lawyer. And single. Very single. Big fan of Captain America, too."

Steve sighs. "I bet she is, but-"

"Yeah, yeah, not interested," Sam snorts. "We all fuckin' know, man. But seriously, it's been, what, a hundred years since you last went on a date?"

"Only about eight years for me, Sam. The years in deep freeze don't count."

"And I'm sure Miss Carter was a great gal, probably took some time to get over," Sam says. "But eight damn years, Steve!"

"We're just worried, Steve," Natasha chimes in from the cockpit. "Being lonely isn't good for anyone."

Steve raises his brows incredulously. "Pot, kettle," he deadpans. 

"Nah, Rogers. I've had Clint dogging me since before I even wanted him around," she replies smugly. 

Clint, who'd been playing a game on his phone, looks up and shoots Steve a grin. "I'm lucky she let me hang around long enough for that to happen."

"Don't make me regret it, Barton," Natasha tells him. He shoots her a salute she can't see. 

"Guys, stop bothering the poor man," Tony steps in, surprising Steve with his defence. "I think we should concentrate on, y'know, team strategy or whatever. Steve, I thought you were a little inflexible back there. Really didn't have the range of motion I expected from you. You know what, I think Pep's talked about how limber her hot yoga classes have made her. Maybe you could-"

"Tony, don't," Steve groans.

"-step in every couple of weeks. I'm sure there are some _great_ ladies there who could teach you a couple of things."

"I will punch a hole in the wall and throw you all out," Steve tells them, voice flat. 

"That's not very _Captainly_ ," Clint gasps, hand clutching his chest melodramatically. 

"Well, it's a good thing I'm just Steve Rogers, then," Steve mumbles under his breath. He's not sure anyone hears him, and he's kind of glad; the words had slipped out of him before he could stop them.

He spends the rest of the way to D.C trying to beat off the team's events to set him up with Sam's cousin. The quinjet lands just as they manage to bottleneck him, drawing a reluctant 'yes' from him just before they land. He's pretty sure Nat was just flying in circles for the last hour of it.

Steve checks his phone after he's shed his Captain America suit and washed the sweat and grime off. It's already eleven, far too late to drive home on his bike. Not because he couldn't handle it, what with him being a supersoldier and all, but because Bucky made him promise _'not to take any unnecessarily fucking stupid risks, ya punk.'_ Apparently that applied to things outside of missions as well, something Steve found out when he drove back to Brooklyn in the middle of the night one time. 

_("Self-preservation instincts of a fucking fruit fly," he'd mumbled into Steve's bare chest later, after Steve had fucked his way back into Bucky's good graces.)_

He chooses to book himself into a hotel close to the Triskelion instead of staying in one of the spartan residential rooms there. It's gut-churningly expensive, even when he takes into account inflation, and he has to remind himself that he's probably got enough money to buy the entire hotel. 

It's strange, he thinks, how he doesn't mind spending ridiculous amounts of money on his friends- on _Bucky-_ but as soon as he needs to buy anything for himself he finds his brain back in the '30s. 

As soon as he's in bed, he calls Bucky. The phone barely rings once before Bucky's on the other end of the line, voice endearingly soft.

"H'lo?" Bucky grumbles. 

"Did I wake you, baby?" Steve asks him, laughing a little.

Bucky hums, a non-committal sound that makes Steve's smile get even wider. 

"I missed you," he tells Bucky. "Sorry I couldn't call earlier; I'm pretty sure Nat kept flying until I said yes to going on a date."

Bucky's quiet for a minute. "They still doin' that?" he asks. "Forcing you into dates?"

"They're just worried about me."

"Nah, Stevie," Bucky says with a laugh. "They're just nosy. No better than Mrs O'Brien."

"Mrs O'Brien?" Steve asks.

"Lady on the street I grew up on. Biggest fuckin' gossip you'll ever meet; I'm pretty sure she knew I was gay before I did. She tried to set me up with her nephew when I went back home a couple of years ago for Christmas, actually."

Steve chuckles. "They mean well," he says.

"If they _meant well,_ they'd have stopped when you asked them to," Bucky says, bristling. 

"You mad about the date, Buck?" Steve asks him. "I can always cancel if you want me to. I mean, I should have never said yes in the first place, but-"

"Hey, hey, hey, Stevie," Bucky interrupts. "It's not your fault. Honestly, I'm surprised you haven't been on _more_ dates. Just go on this one, if you want them off your back for a bit."

"I'm sorry, Buck," Steve sighs. "If I just came out, this shit wouldn't be happening. I could take you out, do all the things you deserve to be able to do."

"Yeah, but then I'd never get a day of peace," Bucky says. "Like, only the Howlies know right now and _that's_ insufferable. Having the paps all up in my business would be a fucking nightmare. 

"I know, but-"

"And honestly, I don't know if I want the Black Widow knowing I even exist," Bucky says with an audible shudder. "Fuck, I'd be dead by the end of the week."

"Nat's not _so_ bad once you get to know her," Steve says. "She wants me to be happy... in a very convoluted, heteronormative way."

"Yeah, but she's also a master assassin who could kill me with her little toe," Bucky argues. "So while I appreciate the effort she's putting in, I don't think I'm ready to sit down for a coffee with her."

"How about we stop talking about my colleagues trying to meddle in my love life?" Steve asks. "Sorry, I'm just kind of-"

"It's fine," Bucky reassures him. "But what else would we have to talk about, if not that?"

His voice has taken on a coy edge, telling Steve he knows _exactly_ what he wants to talk about. Steve hears the faint rustle of fabric moving and can imagine Bucky wriggling around trying to get his pants off. He gets hard impressively fast at the image he's conjured up, as well as the sounds coming from the phone.

"Baby," Steve huffs into the phone. He hears Bucky faintly moan in response. "Tell me what you're doing."

"I'm touching myself, Daddy," he says, voice already deliciously breathy.

Steve's hand drifts down to his still-clothed cock. He palms it over the fabric as the little, mewling sounds Bucky's making washes over him. "Where you touchin' yourself, baby?" he asks.

"My cock," Bucky replies. "'m touching my cock, Daddy. Imagining it's your hand but it's not the same; not nearly big enough. Not nearly as hot."

"Fuck, Bucky," Steve groans. His hand slips under the waistband of his pants and he grips his cock tight around the base. Simply hearing Bucky's voice, the little sounds he makes, is almost enough to make him come. He gives it a few dry pumps along the shaft before palming its head. He's already dripping with an impressive amount of precome, enough to greatly ease the slide of his hand. "You have no idea how fuckin' hot you get me, baby. Those moans you make, they're enough to set me off, y'know. Fuckin' pathetic."

"Not pathetic," Bucky laughs. He cuts himself off with another moan, this one a little louder and longer than the ones before. Steve smirks a little at that. "I'm glad I can do that for you. Makes me feel good. _More_ than good, Daddy."

"You got lube?" Steve asks roughly. His breaths are getting sharper as his pleasure mounts, punctuating the small silence like a knife. He hears the slide and clatter of Bucky searching his nightstand, followed by a brief, airy moan of affirmation. "Good. I want you to finger yourself."

"Yes, Daddy," Bucky says. Steve hears the click of a cap opening, then a sharp inhale of breath. Bucky moans, and Steve's hand revs up its pace. 

"How many d'you have in there right now?" he asks. 

"J-just one, Daddy," is the reply he gets. 

Steve hums in disapproval. "I think we can do better, babydoll," he tells Bucky. "I know how needy your pretty hole can get; one just ain't enough, is it?"

"No, Daddy."

"That's right, Buck. Bet you could get three in there right now. Imagine it's my hand opening you up, getting you ready for my cock. Is that what you want, baby? My cock?"

"Just w-want you right now, Daddy," Bucky stutters. "Anythin' I can get, long as it's you."

Steve's heart trips up at those words. "God, you're sweet," he says. "So fuckin' sweet, aren't you, baby?"

"Only for you," Bucky laughs. 

"I damn well hope so. Wouldn't want you talkin' to anyone else like that, baby. That sweet, filthy mouth is all mine, isn't it?"

"Yes, of course, Daddy," Bucky says. Steve can hear the faint creaking of bedsprings now, like Bucky's fucking his hole desperately onto his fingers, his cock into his hand. 

"Good," Steve manages to grit out. He's on the precipice of orgasm now, the pleasure pent up in his body almost overwhelming. He holds back, wanting to come with Bucky instead of before him. "How're you feeling now, sweetheart?"

"G-good," Bucky says. " _Really_ good."

"I want you to feel even better. Want you to hit your sweet spot. Can you do that for me?"

Bucky whimpers. "Yeah. Yeah, I can d-do that."

"Want you to feel so good it hurts," Steve murmurs softly. His eyes are screwed shut at this point, too overwhelmed with sensation to keep them open. He listens fervently as Bucky's moans intensify, as his breathing hitches in that oh-so-familiar way that tells Steve he's about to come. 

"So close, Daddy," Bucky almost wails. "Feels so good, you make me feel so good, oh, God! Oh, shit, fuck... _fuck!"_

And then Bucky's coming, whimpering as he does. Steve follows not a second later, grunting as come splatters his stomach and chest. He's panting like he's just run ten miles.

They're quiet for a while, just listening to each other breathe and come back to themselves. 

"G'night, baby" Steve murmurs. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Bucky's reply is a gentle snore.

★ - ✪ - ★

Sam's cousin is nice enough. She's easy to talk to, clever; it only takes them twenty minutes before they're bantering like old friends. But there just isn't a spark, not like there was with Peggy, not like there is with Bucky. Hell, he doesn't even think he can compare this to what he has with Bucky; if he and Liz have a glimmer of a connection between them, what Steve has with Bucky is an inferno. 

Liz must've picked up on this, because she ends the date by saying, "I like you, Steve, but I think I'd like you better as a friend than as a fuck."

Steve's face must've gone firetruck red at her blunt words. She laughs and pats him on the shoulder. "Honestly, I only came to get Sam to stop nagging," she tells him. 

"You too?" Steve laughs. "My entire team's been up my ass about dating since I've been out of the ice."

"Same. But, you know, my family instead of the world's top intelligence agents."

They exchange numbers and leave with the promise of hanging out one day to spite Sam. 

He gets home to Bucky watching some trashy reality TV show on his sofa. 

"So," Bucky says as Steve collapses down next to him. He pulls Steve's head into his lap and begins carding his fingers through his hair. "How'd the date go? You gonna jilt me for Sam's hot lawyer cousin?"

"Not in a million years, Buck," Steve replies with a grin. He presses a kiss to Bucky's clothed thigh. "Even if you _do_ have shit taste in entertainment."

Bucky whacks Steve round the head. "Don't be fucking rude."

"Would never dream of it, baby."

Steve's fingers come up to toy with the zip of Bucky's jeans and hears him suck in a sharp breath in response. 

"Stevie," Bucky groans, fingers tightening in Steve's hair. 

Bucky's rapidly hardening under Steve's ministrations. 

"Can't imagine these pants are all that comfortable," Steve says, sliding down onto his knees in front of Bucky. He spreads Bucky's legs wide and nuzzles into the junction of his thigh and groin. 

"Well then, maybe you should... take them off," Bucky says. His hands are roving through Steve's hair, the repetitive motion soothing. It makes Steve want to purr like a damn housecat. 

"Kind of the idea, Buck," he says as he pulls Bucky's cock out. It's red and dripping already. Steve licks up the trail of precome rolling down Bucky's shaft, then wraps his lips around the head of it. It's fever hot, the feel of it comfortable and familiar in Steve's mouth. He grips Bucky's thighs tight to keep them open as he slowly bobs up and down, taking a little more in his mouth with every downstroke. He starts to hum, knowing the effect it has on Bucky. Bucky tries to jerk up, but Steve's hands keep him in place, whimpering feebly as he's denied what he wants. 

Steve takes his time. Every time he senses Bucky getting close, he goes a little slower, sucks a little harder, stops humming, anything to draw it out as long as he can. Bucky's a quivering, plaintive, begging mess under him by the time he decides to take pity on him. Steve doubles down, intensifying everything he's doing until Bucky's screaming and coming into his mouth. He swallows down every last drop, licking over Bucky's softening cock afterwards to clean him of anything he might've missed. 

He gets up off his knees and sits back down on the sofa. He pulls Bucky up against him so that they're spooning, Steve's chin resting atop his head. He nuzzles into Bucky's hair, which carries the faint scent of sweat and sex. "You're it for me, Bucky Barnes," Steve says, his words slightly muffled. 

Bucky huffs. "I better fuckin' be," he says. "Who else could put up with your punk ass?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2 smut for price of 1!!!! wow!!!
> 
> again, if yall have any prompt suggestions, vague ideas, observations, reactions, etc, pls pls pls feel free to leave them down in the comments : ) ilysm thank u for reading <3 (and by pls feel free I mean I will die without attention and kudos and comments are what keeps my brain making that sweet sweet serotonin)


End file.
